


Imagine

by Puniyo



Series: Casting Shadows [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2nd person POV, Allusion to self-harm, Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, dream vs reality, major angst, mention of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 03:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14369808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puniyo/pseuds/Puniyo
Summary: Imagine that there is a long labyrinth you must escape before you lose yourself more.A 2nd person POV account on Yuzuru's feelings during a dark period of his life.





	Imagine

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers, I should be finishing another piece of mine but I ended up writing this short one. I have never written in a 2nd person POV so this is a new challenge for me (I normally choose 3rd and I've tried 1st as well). 
> 
> Note 1: This is purely a product from the caffeine abused mind and 24 hours without a single minute of sleep. I wrote this when I was in the airport waiting for my flight back home. I never knew that a night with strangers could lead to such depressing writing. 
> 
> Note 2: This is based/inspired on words by Yuzuru from his Continues with Wings show in which he says there was a moment in his life when he felt pretty bad/depressed and I MYSELF have been through bad moments in my life and I just wanted to explore these in my writing. IN NO WAY I am implying that Yuzu attempted whatever act against himself and such. This is PURELY fiction. And let me also say that by no means someone who had self-harm thoughts is a weak person. Much on the contrary, it takes so much strength and courage to keep on carrying each day and to be able to talk to the public about these problems, share with others their own pain, this is for me an ultimate symbol of strength. I only have respect for these people. 
> 
> Note 3: THIS IS PURELY FICTION AND ITS PURPOSE IS TO EXPLORE AND CHALLENGE MYSELF AS A WRITER. In no ways the written content reflects reality. THIS IS NOT INTENDED TO OFFEND ANYONE.

Imagine for a second that the ground doesn’t actually shake and that it’s just your legs not finding the right balance and your feet stepping into holes on the pavement and not flattened concrete streets. You are between fallen lamp posts and electric wires on slabs of ice and rock and roof tiles and shattered glass pieces of broken windows. You know you can run.

No. You _must_ run.

You must run before the water catches you and drowns you in that slumber many have been lulled to. There are torn newspaper pages on the waves, cats with stiffened paws and white eyes, and corpses floating, heads down and bloated faces that could burst anytime. The water is dirty and it is gray mixed with olive green, except it is not olives but decomposing food from the sewers and you smell the rotten bread and the putrid meat.

You could throw up at any moment.

But you don’t. You brace yourself and you _run_. This time, you really run. You could win the marathon, you think, but the screeching of the cracked and crushed porcelain teacups on the blades of your skates are ripping your eardrums and imploring you to stop.

You have to make a choice. Skate and die. Leave and live.

_You made a choice._

Imagine that it was all a nightmare and you had just woken up. It’s the third time this week that you have dreamed of water, but this is not a sign and you won’t do anything stupid.

_You have no reason to do anything stupid._

The tiny LED of your phone is blinking at the same rhythm of your ragged breath, once every millisecond, five or six times in a second. Calm down. Breathe.

The sky is still night but your eyes are used to that darkness that you can navigate the corners of your room in your mind without even moving your neck. Your hand extends to the bedside cabinet and the message could only be from _him_.

[4:32AM, Javi] How are you?

You read again and again the three words and you almost throw the electronic device to the wall, wishing it would shatter, the faster the better. ‘I am fine.’ You text back, the sequence of buttons in the keypad already imprinted in your mind. ‘I am fine.’ You type again just to make sure the SMS is not lost in the digital signal that travels across continents. ‘I am fine.’ You try one more time but you don’t send this reply. This one is your personal reminder, one of the many you tell yourself, again and again.

_You just don’t listen to them anymore._

You close your eyes again and you imagine that you can actually breathe under water and that those bodies are not corpses and the flesh is not decaying. It is a new world with beds of seaweed and no one wants you to go. They all smile and embrace you as one of them, as deviant, foreign and strange. You could just close your eyes and never open them again.

Your body is already paralyzed. Up, up, you chant to yourself but your arm won’t even twitch. Left, left, and yet you are still, and still you remain. You can feel sweat accumulate in your palm – hot, sticky and disgusting. It’s fear and you curse for feeling something. Wouldn’t it all be easier if your organs paralyzed too, your kidneys, your liver, your guts, your heart, your lungs, and for last, your brain?

Imagine that you open your eyes again and you realize you are not in the ocean but in your room, the same mattress and pillow and covers, though the last two possessions are on the floor and you fall immediately after. The impact should hurt, your ankle and knee are swollen, but you don’t feel the pain. You laugh miserably at the stupidity of the whole situation.

Your phone rings again. It’s _him_.

[4:35AM, Javi] I am here Yuzu. You’re not alone.

You know you’re not alone. You think you know. You wish you could believe in those words like the way you used to. Do not be mistaken. You trust Javi with all your being and even the forces you summon from the air and everything surrounding you.

It’s _you_ that you don’t trust anymore.

‘I know you’re _there_.’ You are used to lying. It’s not tough. It’s a lie. It’s always tough. And more and more so each time you do it. ‘Go back to sleep.’ You’re not trying to push him away. Maybe you are. You want to be alone but you hate solitude.

You love Javi, but this is _you_ and not _him_.

[4:41AM, Javi] You’re also awake.

To dream or to keep consciousness – you don’t know which one is worse.

You make your way to the bathroom, glad that it is right next to your room so you won’t have to run the risk of sitting at the dinning table and going through the same therapy with your mother again. You relieve yourself, a trail of yellow, and it reminds you of the water in the dream, foul and filthy. You flush the toilet immediately so that it won’t contaminate you.

_As if you weren’t contaminated already._

[4:48AM, Javi] It will heal Yuzu. Talk to me.

You want to talk to him but you can’t even remember the last time you’ve talked to yourself.

People always talk, but who is there to listen?

You look at yourself in the mirror and you can barely recognize the person there. Hollow cheeks and sunken irises in the sockets. It’s so pale your skin, except for the black hairs on your chin like grains of basalt sand, and you try to pull them off to no avail.

There is a razor next to the toothpaste and you don’t even hesitate for a second. Three blades, these don’t screech, and they slide through your skin. You know the drill – dry, no soap, and you not only shave the longest hairs but you also peel and make it bleed.

Bleed like a virgin for the first time. Your laughter is hysterical but quiet, and you didn’t even know you could sound so vain, so foolish, and so desperate at the same time. Your blood drips into the pristine white and clean sink, and the red is vivid and real even under the dim lights. You can almost endure the metallic taste in your tongue. You know it too well and you are drawn to it like a creature of the night is as well. You shrug off this thought and you let the water run.

Water it destroys and water it cleanses.

_As if holy water could ever clean you._

The water is not red anymore. It’s coral and peach and you swear you can smell the sweetness from where you stand. It’s a bowl of rosé wine and you dive your head in. It’s gelid, more than the Antarctic icebergs, you think. It doesn’t taste as grapes, no Merlot nor Chardonnay, but it tastes as you. It tastes bitter, more and more as time slips through your fingers. You are choking and you can’t breathe. You are trying to lift your head but you submerge deeper.

_Do you really want to do this?_

You finally fall to your knees as the water overflows the sink and wets the tiles on the bathroom. You are still coughing for oxygen but the harsh convulsions are soon sobs and you can’t stop. Your hands close into fists and they hit the floor, one time, two times, three, four, five. Your knuckles are bruised but there is no pain. You sob your name, you cry _his_ name. Are these tears, you might think. These are nothing, you might answer.

You don’t know who you are anymore.

Imagine for a second that all this was a dream and that you were a mere passenger of a trick of your own mind. Imagine that there is a long labyrinth you must escape before you lose yourself more.

_Imagine for a second that there was never a dream._

**Author's Note:**

> If you managed to finish this piece, thank you for reading and feedback is appreciated.


End file.
